Saturday morning my kids started pulling wild onions out of our lawn, a many-weed wonder that's both a model of biodiversity and a drag on curb appeal. They combined the white bulbs with parsley, peppercorns, freshly grated nutmeg, fresh ginger and water and declared it soup.
It tasted as good it sounds. Maybe worse.
Luckily, dad was in charge of Mother's Day breakfast this morning. He whipped up Eggs Benedict, which were delicious even though we didn't have English muffins in the house and he had to use mini-bagels for the base. He served this to me in bed with fresh strawberries and a cup of tea.
I pushed my luck by asking for milk in my tea.
My husband was game to go downstairs and get me some, but finding and filling a little pitcher was a bridge too far. He returned with a gallon jug and set it on the bedroom floor.
Still a pretty good way to start a Sunday from my perspective.
How'd the other moms out there fare?
Photo by math-hubby